Don't Get Mad, Get Scissors
by Mac-alicious
Summary: Gabriella Montez sat at her kitchen table, a pair of scissors in her hand. The table was littered with the cut up debris of the first five roses that had fallen victim to her scissors. AU. Oneshot.


**A/N: **Here's another HSM oneshot. I wrote it a long time ago during slow spots in my classes last semester. Anyway, it's kind of random, not sure about it. And of course it's rather AU, but I'm sure you'll see that when you read it. Enjoy! R&R! Thanks! –Mac

**Disclaimer: **I don't own HSM.

**Don't Get Mad, Get Scissors**

Flowers.

The standard gift to send a woman on any occasion (chocolate used to be commonplace too, but that was before the country had become so weight conscious). Men believed it was foolproof. It could be a just thinking about you gift, a special occasion gift for birthdays, anniversaries or Valentine's Day; or, the favorite, an apology gift. When men mess up in a relationship, their first instinct is to send massive bouquets with tags saying something along the lines of "I love you baby. I'm sorry. It was a mistake. It meant nothing. You're my world. I can't lose you. Forgive me. Blah, blah, blah." And sometimes the women fell for the sweet smelling persuasion ("Do you know how much a dozen of long stem roses costs? He _must _love me. He _must_ be sorry.") But this woman was not going to be swayed by a plant—it was a pretty plant but by no means did it absolve him of his misdeeds (the lying bastard).

Gabriella Montez sat at her kitchen table, a pair of scissors in her hand. The sound of the scissors was the only thing that could be heard in her apartment, save for the hushed mumbles that flowed from her lips ("can't believe him…stupid jerk…" snip, snip, _snip_). The table was littered with the cut up debris of the first five roses that had fallen victim to her scissors ("how dare he! Unbelievable! Asshole!" Snip, snip, snippety _snip_!) Gabriella let out a frustrated growl and threw down the scissors, sending petals and bits of stem skidding across the table some making it to the floor.

"Whoa, remind me never to buy you flowers."

Gabriella turned her head to look at the figure standing in the doorway to the small kitchen—Troy Bolton, her best friend and roommate. He had an amused expression on his face. A small smile flittering across his lips. Gabriella scowled at him (how dare he find her suffering amusing!) She turned back to the table and began to gather up the evidence of her handiwork.

"Thanks, Troy," Gabriella replied, "I'm glad you find this entertaining."

She stood and pulled over their trashcan. She wiped all the bits of flower off of the table into the trash. Then she grabbed the six roses left still wrapped in cellophane and dropped them rather forcefully in the can as well. Troy watched her as she did this, moving closer to her while she ignored him. She kicked the trashcan back into its usual place and let out another angry exclamation. This sent Troy into action.

"Gabriella, what happened?" Troy asked as he came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

Instead of answering, Gabriella picked up the card, which had come with the flowers, and held it out to Troy. Warily, he took it from her and slipped the note from the envelope. He gave her a questioning look and she nodded her encouragement. He sighed as he began to read.

"'Gabriella, I hope you accept this token of my apology. I know I made a huge mistake and I am truly sorry. I will regret it for the rest of my life.'" Troy read out loud. He paused to look at Gabriella again, but she urged him to continue. "'You are the most important thing in my life and the fact that I caused you pain is killing me. You have to know that she meant nothing to me…'" Troy trailed off. He walked over and pulled her into a hug, "Gabriella, I'm so sorry."

Gabriella hugged him back, laying her head on his chest. She murmured against his shirt, "It's not your fault. I should have known. He was an idiot when I met him—it could only be expected that he would do something stupid. Finish it."

"Brie, I don't have to…" Troy said stepping away from her.

"Finish it, you haven't even gotten to the funny part," Gabriella responded.

"There's a funny part?" Troy frowned.

"Mildly amusing," Gabriella shrugged.

"If you're sure," Troy continued, "'I don't want to lose you over my own stupidity. I'm begging you, please forgive me. Indefinitely yours, Jackson."

Gabriella snorted, "_Indefinitely_, Troy. Who says that?"

Troy tossed the card back onto the table and glanced momentarily at the mess of flowers in the garbage, "So I take it you aren't in a forgiving mood?"

"Ha." Gabriella chuckled, "You noticed? A year, Troy, _a year_. I wasted on him. Only to have him simultaneously cheat on me and accuse me of being unfaithful."

"Wait, he accused you of cheating? When?" Troy questioned.

"Oh, you know," Gabriella sighed and slumped back into her chair at the table, "In the beginning, middle and end."

Troy sat down next to her, "The whole time? Why would he think that?"

"He was never really comfortable with us living together. I guess he assumed we were…_more_ than we were," Gabriella explained, telling Troy something she had kept from him for a year (it had been out of her mouth for 2.5 seconds and she was already rethinking her decision to tell him).

"So he goes out and finds his own side dish? Are you kidding me? I'll kill him…" Troy exclaimed. "How dare he assume that you would—that we would—AAGH!"

"Troy, calm down," Gabriella soothed "It's over and done with. I'll be okay. Everything will work out. Honestly, I hope the universe has bigger plans for me than Jackson Parker."

"You are the greatest girl in the world and he didn't even see it," Troy shook his head.

"Like I said, he was an idiot." Gabriella smiled weakly.

"Didn't he ever think that if we were actually together, that I wouldn't have _ever_ shared you with him?" Troy replied, his gaze on her steady.

"What are you saying Troy?" Gabriella asked quietly.

"I'm saying that if I had you, I wouldn't want to share you and I wouldn't risk losing you to be with someone else and I wouldn't have to look elsewhere because you would be more than enough for me. You're wonderful. You're perfect. And I would never give you a reason to massacre a perfectly good bouquet of flowers that never did a thing to you. That's what I'm saying."

"Troy…"

"No, Gabriella. I mean it. You deserve better than the Jackson Parkers of the world. You deserve someone who is going to love you and only you. You deserve that Gabriella," Troy cut her off. "And if I had you, I would give you that."

"Are you trying to say you want to be with me?" Gabriella questioned.

"I can't say I haven't thought about it," Troy chuckled lightly, "And I think you have a reason for why you didn't tell me that he thought we were together."

"My reason was that I was afraid you would have gotten angry and tried to hurt him," Gabriella responded.

"And I would have, I'll admit it. This conversation is the only thing that's keeping me from not running out that door right now and beating him to a pulp for what he did to you," Troy agreed, "But there's more to it than that, because as the person you are you wouldn't have just ignored a false accusation unless you saw some truth in it."

"I didn't ignore the accusation, I just didn't hold it against him."

"Why didn't you hold it against him? You knew it wasn't true."

"_Because!_ Because maybe I could understand why he might think we had something between us. Because he's not the first person to suggest such a thing. Because our relationship has always been over the line between romantic and platonic," Gabriella answered.

"So in other words, you did see the truth in it?" Troy said and Gabriella nodded in agreement after a moment. "Then the real question would be do _you_ want to be with _me_?"

"Troy, I just broke up with my boyfriend, who I was in a relationship with for a year. I just chopped up half a dozen roses in an angry rage. Do you think this is the right time for this conversation?"

"As good a time as any," Troy smiled and it was contagious. Gabriella shook her head, even as a smile began to play across her lips. "Is that a yes?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes, "Just so you know if you ever hurt me, the scissors do not stop at flowers."

"I'll keep that in mind," Troy responded.

Troy leaned forward and kissed Gabriella lightly. No, he didn't plan on ever hurting her. He had hoped for so long that she would see him in a romantic light, to ever do something that could make her leave him now (or take scissors to his belongings or any part of his body). And as she pulled him closer he decided that if he ever wanted to get her flowers, it might be best to hide all the sharp objects in the apartment (you know, just in case).


End file.
